


Favor of the Pack

by Shockcakes



Category: Furry (Fandom), Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Interspecies, Interspecies Sex, Licking, Multi, Rough Sex, an annoying pixie, minor group sex, wolf dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 13:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13718871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shockcakes/pseuds/Shockcakes
Summary: A cautionary tale of why pixies are assholes





	Favor of the Pack

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something new
> 
> I didn't even know Ao3 had a spot for furry fiction

“ _Lovely_.”

The robed bat grumbled to herself.

Lurking out in the daytime always left Morgana in a grumpy mood. The dreary clouds and the gray sky did little to ease her annoyance. Why? Because she had the misfortune of needing-

“Lycan’s fur. Where in the 5 gates of hell am I gonna get lycan’s fur?!” Morgana muttered to herself. The worst thing that could happen to a witch was to run out of supplies. Potions always required the most ridiculous of ingredients. Many of which one can only find by chance. In this case, Morgan is unfortunate enough to require the hair of a creature that was rarely sighted in nature. She could amble through the entire land and not find hide nor tail of the beast even with every divine, blessed, artifact her cursed little witch fingers could hold. It was a matter of pure luck.

Still, she was guaranteed not to find any lycans if she didn’t force herself to try.

She trod the overgrowth of the nearest forest. The tall trees gave the place an eerie ambiance. For all she knew, there could be at least 6 different species living in this jungle. “I’d have more luck finding pixie dust in this gods-damned place.”

Almost on cue, Morgana scratched an annoying sensation bothering her ear. “Ok, bad metaphor…” Sure enough, a glowing sprite flew out from behind it. Why those little pests were so attracted to her ears, she’ll never know. Without missing a beat, Morgana confined the fluttery thing to its new home: her trusty pixie jar.

Pixies were a good source of luck. The mischievous little bugs glittered with pure magic what with being made of the stuff. It was common knowledge that keeping one brought good omens. Morgana decided to try her luck.

“Alright you nightlight with wings, I’m looking for a Lycanthrope pack.” The pixie didn’t reply, instead, it crossed its arms with a silent “Hmph!”. Impatient, she shook the jar, jiggling its resident inside and slamming it against the barrier of the glass. The pixie didn’t quite take too kindly to that. “I don’t have all day, you candle with wings. Some of us have  _potions_  to make, so if you could be so kind as to direct me to the nearest pack of mutts, that’d be great.”

The tiny fae pouted, now locked in an intense staring contest with its captor. A mischievous grin, almost entirely unnoticeable to the untrained eye, adorned its lips. The pixie pointed upwards at the lid of the jar. Morgana caught on quickly.

“Ohoho no you don’t!” she sneered. “You pixies are a bunch of slippery fucks. You’re not going  _anywhere_  until I get my stinkin’ lycan hair!”

The sprite pouted again but reluctantly complied, pointing her new owner in a direction further into the forest.

“That’s more like it.” Her fangs formed a satisfied grin as she tied her navigator’s prison to her waist. What the witch failed to realize was that the pixie was still grinning.

–

“Ah, fuck!”

Morgana swore as she tripped over  _another_  overgrown root. Night had come making it even more impossible to see past her own two feet. She pretended not to notice her “partner” giggling to itself. She was searching this infernal forest for hours and still not a single shred of lycan fur. Was she just walking in circles?

Annoyed, she pulled out the little makeshift lantern. “Look here, you  _sparkling mosquito_ ,” Morgana’s fangs bared at the pixie, causing it to reel back slightly in fear. Her brown fur was frazzled down to the fluff around her neck. If her bloodshot eyes were any indication, the bat was just about ready to snap “It’s  _late_ , my feet  _hurt_ , and I’ve been doing the equivalent of twiddling my thumbs for the past  _three **hours**._ ” She snarled. The pixie crossed its arms like a child sassing their parents. She wasn’t at all fazed by her disgruntled and almost nightmarish visage. It drove Morgana insane.

Morgana eyed the defiant fairy. Blasted thing was getting her lost on purpose she bet. Suddenly a crooked smile cracked her lips. “Y’know…I bet I could make some effective potions with a nice pair of  ** _pixie wings_** …”

All of the sprite’s animosity and mischievousness was now replaced with immediate fear. It shook its hands and head in total disagreement, soon pointing at a darkened clearing in the further reaches of the forest.

Morgana sighed. She had a gut feeling that the living nightlight was coning her again but what choice did she have? It’s dark and she’s hopelessly lost. “If I die, I swear I’m haunting your glowy ass.”

The night’s darkness miraculously didn’t shroud the clearing. Instead, Morgana found herself washed in bright moonlight. However, it wasn’t the sky that caught the witch’s interest. Rather, it was imposing figures of white that resided there.

“Lycans!”

Morgana immediately shut her mouth once she realized what she’d just done. She recounted the specific rule she gave herself during her very first encounter with a lycan: “ _DON’T FUCKING CALL OUT TO THEM LIKE A DUMBASS_ ”. Well, she broke that rule…again. There was roughly a pack of 4 canine beasts, fur stark white with black tribal markings. She hadn’t seen these types of lycans before. Most of them were nothing more than oversized mutts that could walk upright. These lycans…uneased her.

“Uhhh…hi?”

The lycans didn’t respond. Instead, they gathered around their new guest. Morgana was surrounded by towering canines, each with quite sizable builds and toned muscles. This pack must have had many a successful hunt to all be looking so healthy and…buff.

A small tap of the glass hanging from Morgana’s waist had reminded her of what she was doing. “R-right! Uhh, I was hoping to get some…lycan’s fur?” her tone grew small. She didn’t want to piss them off as a majority of lycans have always been territorial. “Please?” she squeaked. The fact that they hadn’t attempted to rip her to shreds was a miracle of itself.

Still no response. Then again it wasn’t like they could talk. They were mainly animals despite how “normal” they looked. They all eyed her with a gaze Morgana couldn’t really figure out; curiosity bordering on wariness. Wonderful. The beasts probably couldn’t even understand her.

She didn’t have all night. She went into this hell of a forest for one thing and damned if she left without it. “So…I’ll take that as a yes?” Her hand reached for the beast closest, going for his mane.

A powerful paw had seized her hand in seconds.

Shit.

“Wha-hey!” Morgana yelped as the dominant arm now held her effortlessly off the ground. Her heartbeat was racing. There was no doubt in her mind now. These beasts were going to kill her; maul her to death for attempting to harm one of their kin. What was her plan anyway? Rip off its fur, haul ass, and hope she didn’t get eaten?

She was too scared to think. Magic charms did little against lycans other than making them angrier. She needed a scapegoat.

Morgana’s free arm grabbed the pixie’s jar. “Hey, hey! Look what I’ve got here!” she jiggled the bauble in the lycan’s face. The tiny sprite ricocheted inside the glass until it glowed blue, now left dizzy and annoyed. “Now  _fetch_!” with as much strength her arm could give, Morgana tossed the jar in the opposite direction, watching it plop onto the soft grass.

…

 _Ah, fuck_.

The bat witch grimaced. Her ploy not only didn’t work but now her little pest of a partner is gonna get treated to the show. She knew it must have had the biggest shit-eating grin.

She gazed back at her current captor. His quiet and calm exterior scared her the most. Morgana had never seen such a docile wild lycan before. It had her on edge. The other beasts gathered around her, blocking any means of escape. What were they going to do? Rip her to shreds with their claws? Take turns gnawing on her flesh? “I can’t believe I’m gonna die for some measly lycan’s fur.”

They tore away her robes, revealing her perky breasts and sizable hips. They’re probably going for the ‘gnawing’ route. Morgana shut her eyes and prepa- _what was touching her nipple_?

Her eyes widened. Much to her horror, the sensation at her breast was a tongue. A lycan’s tongue to be specific. “Wh-what?!” still powerless against the canine’s iron grip, another lycan tended to her chest, lapping at her exposed nipple. Rough hands pawed at her figure, rubbing her shapely body. “Hey, quit it you mangy- _mmph_?!” her shrieks were silenced by a tongue being shoved into her mouth.

The pack gathered closer, each canine taking turns sniffing and licking around the bat’s body. Tiny groans and breathy gasps escaped Morgana’s throat. She was now held against what she could assume to be the alpha lycan’s broad chest. She was entirely powerless, unable to fight back less she run the risk of having the creatures effortlessly maul her. Getting what she bothered coming here for was out of the question at this point. Why was she suddenly becoming a fuck-toy? From the corner of her eye, she gazed a sight that caused a fatal realization to dawn on her.

It was  _mating season_.

It wasn’t long until she caught sight of the array of canine erections hardening in anticipation. Her mouth was still preoccupied, unable to spout any sort of disapproval or profanity. A strong pair of paws suddenly hoisted her lower body.  _Oh, gods no_.

This entire ordeal was getting to her; the attention on her breasts to her mouth wasn’t letting up. The canine’s tongue explored her mouth. Morgana, too weak for her own muscle to put up a fight, merely let the beast lick and slobber to his heart’s content. Two more tongues played with her ample bosom, eliciting shivers down her spine. Her body began to burn. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second.

Morgana wanted to fight her carnal urges. Getting fucked by a bunch of wild animals was just so  _wrong_ , but it had certainly been a while since she last been pleasured like this. She could feel a muzzle poking at her exposed butt.  _Shit! Nononononono! Don’t you fucking dare!_

It was too late. A slobbery wet tongue slid across her lower lips. Morgana yelped into the alpha’s muzzle. Her eyes went half-lidded as the addictive sensation played at her hips. The pack held her horizontally, each of them exploring the bat’s smaller frame. They lapped at her fur, drinking in her unique scent. If Morgana didn’t know better, she would’ve guessed they were tasting her.

The alpha finally released her mouth from his. Her tongue felt like jelly; any attempt she made to talk had been reduced to breathy groans. Her lower lips were still being thoroughly fucked by a long canine tongue. He squeezed her ass while slipping his tongue past her outer walls. Morgana shrieked whatever profanities her failing mouth would allow her. Her hips began to buck against the lycan’s muzzle. To hell with how wrong this was, she needed more of this  _lovely_ sensation. She orgasmed harder than she ever thought possible. Her body wracked and shuddered with the euphoria of her release. Morgana panted heavily. With the day she was having, suffice to say that she…needed that.

However, it seemed as though the pack was not finished. They plopped Morgana down on the grass sitting up and facing the alpha of the pack.

“Oh…”

Her eye was now focused on the red dog dick now pointed directly at her face. She reeled back nervously. She knew that the pack was expecting that she reciprocate what they gave to her. From the corner of her eye, she saw the pixie, watching from afar and laughing its ass off at the moody witch now being put in her place. Morgana swore she was gonna scrape that bug off her shoe when this was over.

The alpha grew impatient, putting an expectant paw on Morgana’s head and forcing her further against his length. “Ok! Ok! Fuck, I’m doing it alright?!” she groaned. His slimy cock planted onto her face, its powerful musk furiously attacked her senses. It was enough to leave her mildly entranced by the sheer size of it. Without thinking, her hand went to the alpha’s full balls. She held her breath, trying not inhale too much of his hypnotizing odor.

Morgana gave the cock an experimental lick. Her face soured somewhat from the tang of the salty taste. Strong yet not entirely…unpleasant. The taste was far more intense than its musk. It made her dizzy with every run of her tongue. Licking became slobbering. She soon began to coat every inch of the alpha’s length in her saliva.

The last throngs of her sanity were still clawing at her mind. She should have been using her vast knowledge of arcane spells and cunning to slip away from this beastly romp. Instead, she was  _enjoying_  it -  _encouraging_  it even. Her folds getting wetter by the second and her hands massaging the lycan’s fuzzy globes.

Morgana dared herself further. Without so much as a second thought, she plunged the canine erection down her mouth. She didn’t bother trying to hold her breath, allowing herself to succumb to the trance. She ran her tongue along the meaty length as much as she could. She could barely get the thing halfway before her gag reflex kicked in.

As she sucked off the alpha, his strong hand grabbed her frazzled hair once more and guided her down his cock. Morgana didn’t fight back. She followed the alpha’s motions, letting his girth take her mouth as his own.

The pace increased. The alpha was now virtually fucking her face at this point. Forceful claws thrust her mouth deeper and deeper. His heavy balls slapped against her chin with every plunge. Breathing was a challenge for her and every breath forced the alpha’s musk directly to her senses.

The alpha gave one more push, forcing his thick knot down her throat. Morgana didn’t know how long she could keep herself from choking on his throbbing shaft. She watched the lycan pant heavily, enamored watching her mouth engorged on his shaft. Her eyes widened in surprise as she felt the alpha’s seed shoot directly into her mouth. She forced herself off of him in a series of coughs and sputters, only to be met with strands of his spunk falling directly on her face. She mentally groaned at the thought of scouring her tomes to find a spell to fix her surely ruined fur. She didn’t need to look to know that her little pixie “friend” was enjoying the show.

As her eye caught the alpha’s cock, still erect somehow, she found herself too tired to muster a response, only whining weakly. Don’t these fleabags know what a refractory period is? She glanced over at the pixie, fully aware of how “helpful” its been thus far. As far as Morgana could tell, both her and it knew there was only one way she was getting out of this situation.

“Ah, fuck.”

–

“ _Ah! F-fuck!_ ”

It was hot, fast, and intense. She was taken from behind, the alpha’s hard length pounding into her. Morgana gasped and moaned like a bitch in heat. She was being fucked like an animal and that wasn’t even the worst part. She wanted  _more_. Each thrust drove her further and further. Each time the lycan hit her g-spot, Morgana could swear she felt pure lightning rip through her entire body.

“Oh please…oh  _gods_!” the witch moaned. “ _D-don’t…stop…_ ”

She orgasmed for the second time, receiving little time to rest or even catch her breath. The lycan pulled her against him, softly biting her ear and grabbing hold of her breast. The rest of the pack watched her patiently as their alpha passionately took her. Alphas are the only ones that breed in packs, aren’t they? She almost wanted others to join in as part of her euphoria induced fantasy.

Morgana no longer cared about the lycan’s fur anymore.  _This_  was all she wanted – all she could’ve asked for. Even her wildest, raunchiest fantasies could match the thrill of being so possessively used in the dirtiest of ways. This canine – this  _animal_  – only cared for sex, following it’s basest of instincts and Morgana was his tool to satisfy. The more she thought about it, the more her body burned.

Her arm reached for the alpha’s muzzle, still nibbling on the soft flesh of her ear. Morgana felt the creature’s hot breath against her neck. His cock throbbed as he forced his slick knot past her lower lips. She tightened around him in response. For a moment, a static unit in time where the entire universe paused, the witch achieved nirvana. Her poor pussy, pounded again and again over the course of this session, finally gave way to the lycan’s knot and rippled pleasure through her entire body. Morgana shrieked. She wailed, she cried, she screamed so intensely that she was sure that her voice could be heard throughout the entire forest.

The euphoric madness didn’t end there as now the alpha hammered into her with even more intensity. She was forced to her hands and knees. The alpha hunched over her, his buff arms on either side of her supporting his own weight while he rammed into her. Tightened muscles slapped and jiggled her plump ass. Morgana gripped whatever she could, from the dirt to the grass as she squirmed beneath the alpha. Each powerful thrust sent quakes throughout her curvy body. Morgana went limp, whether due to exhaustion or for the canine to do what he pleased with her, she didn’t know.

The lycan’s body stiffened. He howled as his weight pressed down on her. Morgana shrieked in response as the strands of his second orgasm took her by surprise. The creamy fullness of his cock still inside her felt absolutely heavenly. His dick practically flexed inside her inner folds, his knot locking in place while his seed poured into her. She watched her pussy virtually milk his dick, an intoxicated grin plastered across her face.

Hormones and musk still inebriated her senses. She didn’t care how long the canine knot was still stuck inside her aching sex. Once she was released from the creature’s grasp, the witch merely lied amongst the grass.

–

“Gross.”

Sticky, wet, and just as grumpy as she was before her impromptu intercourse, Morgana salvaged what was left of her tattered garments. Luckily her favorite cape survived the encounter. She was gonna need it if she wanted to make it back home without freezing in this cold weather. Night had fallen, that much she was glad for.

“ _Groooooss_.”

Liquid trickled down her legs. Even more sticky, matted fur that she was going to have to deal wi-

 _FUR_.

Morgana frantically searched around the clearing. The lycan pack was gone, as were her chances of getting the  _only_  thing she set out to get in the first place.

_How wonderful._

Dejected, Morgana began the trek home. The potion she was planning on brewing was going to have to wait for whichever-time-keeping-deity knew how long until she can find another lycan.

Further scanning the area, Morgana found no sign of the pixie either. Maybe a frog mistook her for a fly or something.

 _Good riddance_.

Infuriating little sprite took her to a pack going through their estrus cycle on purpose. And to think: she was literally fucked by the thing she was looking for and her brain was too high off of pheromones that she couldn’t even salvage a clump of fur. Typic-

_Wait._

_No._

_It can’t be._

But it was.

From atop a tree branch just above the witch’s line of sight stood a jar.  _Her_  jar. No longer housing a bright blue pixie but instead filled to the brim with-

“LYCAN’S FUR!!” Morgana bellowed eagerly. Her excitement was quickly replaced with ire when she saw the jar’s current owner, perched right on top of the lid.

“Get down here with my gods-damned hair you tiny blue piece of flycatcher bait!”

The pixie stuck it’s tongue out, taking its treasure and flying off, naked bat witch following in tow.


End file.
